captblacktoe

so it turned out to be anothe rbullshit birfday. drama stacked on top of drama. blah blah blah i hate sounding sorry for myself so here is something else. a stream of consciousness.


this is what i want this is the sweet escape of coke lines and razor blades shaping harden moments into better tomorrows today i feel lost but maps have been drawn along my feet i gave them instrustions and now just wait for them to do the rest foollow the dotted line walk back donw time lines and leav footprints form wading throughn bloodlines, i need someone to taste this mix of anger and hope and see if the recipe is turning out alright for i have lost it in piles of her bullshit and nightmares god what ni would give to ride daymares through deserted wetdreams taste those tears and remeber how much beeter fifth grade was before scott went crazy before rianbows pierced the clouds in my eyes and i could see the shape of things. these line have been blurred burned down by revolution and acid rain, i keeping lose the track of thought i started on and wandering into gasps of silence pick up the crown and remeber the kinship that gave rise to kngships sink sinkships and start over remeber the kinship that let this escape be delayed twenty years multiplied by night has left me counting shadows guiding my way with strobe lights and memories of intoxication durnk of her sex and starving for a taste please bring this back to where i don't feel so exposed expose yourself on altars bath in the blood of hope bapisted in -isms. escape this path stepp of the tracks and start over, this is our time to abandon fake fathers bring mothers into spotlights and rememebr how grandpa wasn't allowed to feel anything and thats way he drank grandma wasn't allowed to ask and so she drank they're both dead and that why overseers drink this has gotten off the orginal point of pointless pencils writting words i'll never read.